


A Little Less Trouble, Same Small Package

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [40]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Aftercare, Akihito messes up, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Canes, Coming Out, Consensual Corporal Punishment, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Drinking, Flashback Story, M/M, Oral Sex, Picnics in Bed, Punishment, Rimming, Slash, Unsafe Behavior, Yaoi, drinking and driving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 05:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: This is a requested story about the OTHER time Asami punished Akihito, which has been referenced many times on my blog, askasamifeiandaki.tumblr.com, but the story of which has never been told. This is that story.Akihito goes out drinking with his friends. He decides he's too horny to wait for a cab, so he rides his scooter home in a very inebriated state. Asami is....less than pleased, especially since it has happened once before and Akihito had promised never to do it again.There are consequences.





	A Little Less Trouble, Same Small Package

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theplacezinbetween](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Theplacezinbetween).



> I've deliberately been unspecific about when in the timeline of Finding Vengeance this story happens, mainly because I can't really decide. It's somewhere AFTER Big Trouble in a Small Package and BEFORE Forgiveness.
> 
> I've also made one significant change to events on the blog, for those of you who follow it. In this story, part of the reason Aki drinks too much is because it's the night he decides to come out to his friends. I needed there to be a special occasion, and this felt right to me.
> 
> I'm actually so glad this story was commissioned, because I've been wanting to write it for a while, but just haven't had the time. I feel like it was important for me to write more about the (admittedly very rare) punishment dynamic that exists between Asami and Akihito on the occasions where it does happen, and I think this story does a pretty good job of it, since I know it was confusing for a lot of people the first time, especially since they don't have a D/s relationship in a traditional sense.
> 
> If you're nervous about reading this, do please be aware that it's less intense than the first story where Asami punishes Akihito. Not that it isn't intense, it's just....less so. And much less violent.

He nearly crashes his scooter twice on the way to the bar where Kou and Takato are probably already waiting for him. He’s running late, but that’s not the reason for the near misses. He’s late because of his plan. Because he’d taken a lot longer than usual to get ready. No, he’d been stalling. And it’s thoughts of the plan that have him so distracted he nearly rear-ends two cars because he doesn’t notice the light turning red in front of him. Geez, he needs to get a grip!

 

_ But what if they don’t understand? _ His thoughts keep spinning anyway.  _ What if they….What if I...what if….ARGH! I have to stop this! _ By then he’s reached the bar, one of their old favorites from when they’d been in college, and when he’d suggested they meet up there for old times’ sake, they’d agreed. He finds a place to park the scooter and then walks very slowly to the door.

 

His friends are, indeed, already waiting for him Kou standing up and waving from a table in the back. Their old corner. A tiny smile passes fleetingly over Akihito’s face as he wonders if their initials are still carved in the underside of the table, remembering the night they’d done it, a little bit drunk and filled with careless good cheer. It had been his idea, of course. That they should mark  _ their _ table as their property. Every the most responsible one, Takato had pointed out that they’d be caught and banned from the bar forever if they started hacking away at the tabletop with Aki’s pocket knife. And so of course they’d taken turns crawling underneath to do it, carving their initials into the wood while the other two had done their best to hide each other with their legs and jackets. 

 

“He-ey, Aki-kun,” cries Kou, grabbing him in a one-armed hug so he can use the other to mess up Akihito’s hair. Aki does his best to make sure his laugh sounds genuine and shoves at Kou. Takato grins at their antics and rolls his eyes. “Look here, we even got  _ our _ old table,” cries his sillier friend triumphantly. Surprised it hasn’t been replaced by now, because those tables had been pretty damned old over 5 years ago when they’d started hanging out here, Aki bends down and sticks his head under the table. Sure enough there are their initials. Engraved permanently into the solid wood, side by side. That’s a good sign, right?

 

He tries to find a conversation starter as they order some beer, but it’s even harder than he’d expected. Well, he’s always been chatty as hell and tends to lose his brain-to-mouth filter when he’s had a little, so he resorts to liquid courage in hopes it’ll loosen his tongue. They share stories about the old days, some of the crazy nights they’d had in college….that part is easy. Things have always been easy around Kou and Takato. They’ve never treated him like an airhead the way a lot of people have done his whole life because he tends to flit from one topic to another, sometimes changing subjects practically mid-sentence. They’ve always understood. They’ve always….accepted him for who he is. Oh.

 

“I’m gay,” he blurts out suddenly in the middle of a conversation about how Takato had taken almost three months to ask the girl he’s now married to out on a date. Both his friends go silent and just stare at him, blinking a little in surprise.

 

“You….you’re….but you always joined in when we’d talk about how hot a girl was,” says Kou finally, scratching his head. Takato gives Kou a pitying look and pats his arm, then smiles at Aki almost the same way.

 

“I know,” he says with a small shrug. Akihito stares at him in openmouthed shock. 

 

:You  _ knew _ ?” Kou cries in outrage. “Why didn’t you  _ tell _ me??” Takato gives him a bewildered look.

 

“Because it wasn’t my secret to tell? Dumbass.” Kou processes this for a moment, then rounds on Akihito.

 

“Hey! Why didn’t  _ you _ tell me?” he demands. “How come Takato knows and not me?” Takato sighs patiently and cuffs the back of Kou’s head gently.

 

“He didn’t  _ tell _ me, fool. I just...figured it out.”

 

“How?” wonders Akihito bluntly. Takato gives him a look that says  _ Really _ ?

 

“Well, for one thing, you never actually asked out any of the girls we talked about being cute. In fact, you didn’t date at all while we were in school. Second, while you never seem to have much trouble talking to guys or older women, like, your mom’s age or older, you always seem kinda uncomfortable around younger women. But the kicker for me is that you’ve been living with that guy who picked you up an New Year’s for like, over a year now and you’ve never invited us over to hang out. Not once.”

 

“Wh...why didn’t you ever say anything?” asks Aki nervously. Probably the subject had been too abhorrent. But Takato gives him a small, almost sad smile.

 

“I figured you’d talk about it when you were ready.” That’s when Akihito realizes that his friend isn’t disgusted, he’s a little bit hurt.

 

“Takato,” he whispers, “Kou....I...I’m sorry. Honestly, I didn’t really figure it out myself until I met. Well. Until Asami.”

 

“But Asami’s a girl’s name,” says Kou, still looking more than a little lost and confused. 

 

“It’s his surname, you dork,” says Akihito fondly. “Y’know, how a lot of guys from really rich families go by their surnames. Or important politicians. or how Emperors did.: “ Takato snorts in amusement while Kou stares very hard into his beer as if he’s going to find answers in there.

 

“Are you comparing your boyfriend to an Emperor?” Takato teases with a smirk. Akihito drains the rest of his glass, reaching for the pitcher in the middle of the table.

 

“Well, he  _ acts _ like one most of the time,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head and stares at his friends in astonishment. “Wait...so…..you don’t think I’m disgusting?”

 

“I think you’re an asshole for not telling us,” Kou replies, seeming to have figured out what’s actually going on (whether or not it was the beer who explained things is debatable). “Do you not trust us or something?”

 

Akihito blinks.

 

“I...no….I mean, of course I do! I trust you guys more than anyone. It’s just….it took me a really long time to come to terms with it myself. I mean seriously, I was ashamed of it for so long. It hasn’t even been that long since I got to be sort of okay with it myself. And then I was afraid.”

 

“Afraid of  _ what _ ?” Now Takato looks confused.

 

“Well, I mean, gay dudes never came up in any of our conversations. Not ever. I’ve never heard either of you guys say anything about how you felt about it, plus it’s always different when it’s a friend or family member, y’know?”

 

Kou and Takato share a slightly guilty look, even though there’s not really a reason for them to. They guess they really haven’t given Akihito any reason to have any clue how they’d react to his news, but it hadn’t been intentional on their parts. Aki, they suppose, being confused about his sexuality, had just gone along with all their talks about girls, and they’d just assumed it meant he was into them too. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but it makes them feel a little bit bad anyway.

 

“Aki,” says Kou, who has finally caught up with the program, “I have other friends who are gay. And yeah, it  _ is _ different when it’s a friend or a family member. It means it’s  _ more _ important to show them how much you care about them and show your support. I feel bad that you went through all that confusion alone, when we could have been helping you. I don’t...know exactly what’s going on with that guy you live with, but it’s pretty obvious he cares a lot about you, getting up at the asscrack of dawn to make sure you got home safe when he knew you were so drunk, but even if something he’s said or done has been part of what’s been confusing you, being gay isn’t something you suddenly just choose. Even if you realize it suddenly, it’s always been a part of you. It’s just another part of who you are. And another part of who you are? That’s the guy who’s one of my two best friends in the world, and nothing could change the way I feel about you. Well, I mean, if you told us you were into monkeys or something, I’d probably recommend therapy, but even then I wouldn’t stop loving you or hanging out with you.” Takato nods earnestly in agreement.

 

Akihito snorts beer out of his nose, whereupon Takato thumps him helpfully on his back.

 

“Silly Kou,” he says happily, “animals can’t give consent. That's important, yanno. So it wouldn’t be okay.”

 

Kou had said he loved him! His friends didn’t care at all that he had a male lover. Well. Lovers. Though even though the buzz of alcohol that was now starting to fill his brain, he figures it’s probably best to wait a little while to try to explain polyamory to them. He doesn’t notice the odd looks they’re exchanging over his consent comment, or the new questions in their eyes.By mutual agreement, they decide Akihito has been through enough emotional turmoil tonight and they’d save those questions for another time. Kou reaches out and pours all of them full glasses of beer.

 

“A toast,” he cries. “A toast to our gay-ass friend!”

 

“Kanpai!” Aki and Takato shout at the same time. They lift their glasses, surfaces banging together forcefully enough that the bartender looks up from where he’s wiping down more clean glassware and glares at them in warning. None of the three young men take the slightest notice, turning up their beers and downing them in several long gulps.

 

“Next pitcher’s on me,” announces Aki, standing up and grabbing the now-empty one. He feels like celebrating, now that they both know his secret….well, one of them….and accept him wholeheartedly anyway. They continue their celebration on deeper into the night, toasting to all manner of things about one another that are odd or weird but are reasons why they love each other anyway. Kou’s airheadedness. The way Takato’s wife has him tied so  tightly to her apron strings (Aki snickers at that one, making his friends wonder yet again), Akihito’s hair, Takato being a stodgy old man even by the time he’d been only 20 (Takato insists that he is  _ not _ , he was here wasn’t he?) but Kou and Aki just laugh and make another toast.

 

Akihito feels amazing. Tonight has gone better than he could have have imagined. He’s completely lost track of how many beers he’s had. It doesn’t matter. This is special occasion. He hasn’t lost his friends at all. In fact, it feels like they’ve grown even closer. Now he can hardly wait to invite them over. Boy, just wait until they get a load of the place he’s living! He can’t wait to see the look on Kou’s face. They haven’t had video game nights in a long time, but he certainly has many fond memories of them perched as close as they can get around one of their shitty little televisions, yelling over Kou’s battered PS3. Wait until they see the gaming setup he has at home. Maybe they can even bring back game night, if Takato’s wife will let him out often enough. 

 

Home. He starts to think of home in between jokes and toasts. He also thinks about what Kou had said, about Asami coming to get him on New Year’s that night so long ago. At the time, he’d just assumed Asami had been tired of being bothered and showing up in person was his high-handed way of putting a stop to it, but he knows the man better now. Asami had already cared so much about him, even way back then. It gives him a warm feeling in his stomach. Oh, and lower down too. 

 

He glances down at his watch, squinting a little to register the time.

 

“Hey Takato, didn’t your wife tell you she wanted you to be home before midnight?” he asks.

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“Dude, it’s 11”45….”

 

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” cries Takato, leaping to his feet. He tosses a handful of bills down on the table, calling over his shoulder to tell them to let him know if it’s not enough to cover his part and that he’s gotta haul ass to catch the metro. Kou gazes a little sadly into the dregs of his beer and sighs.

 

“Yeah, I gotta be at work in the morning. Maybe we should go ahead and pay the tab?” Kou’s apartment isn’t far from here, so he’ll have walked, as he always does when his destination is within a mile or less of his place, not caring too much for the trains. They count the pitchers of beer on the table (Akihito is shocked to find that the total is  _ six) _ and count out their own cash to go with Takato’s finding that he’s left more than his share, as usual. Good old Takato. He’d gotten a great job at an accounting firm straight out of school and has always been more flush than the other two, and never hesitates to pick up the tab or pretend to “accidentally” leave more money than he needs to for his part of the bill. In fact, he and Kou have been covering for Akihito for years, assuring him that when he’s a rich and famous photographer he can catch them up. 

 

“Hey, your boyfriend's rich, right,” slurs Kou, leaning on him as they make their way to the door.

 

“Ye-eah,” agrees Akihito uncomfortably.

 

“So how come you don’ let him pay for shit? You never do. Man, if I had a rich lover, I’d be livin’ the high life,” says Kou dreamily. Aki whacks him on the arm.

 

“I’m not with him for his  _ money _ , you ass,” says Aki hotly. “I’m-a pay my own may!”

 

“So then...you really love the guy, huh?” Kou asks, as he turns to head towards home. 

 

“Night Kou,” laughs Akihito as his friend staggers once before straightening to walk down the sidewalk away from him. “Be careful walking home!”

 

Kou takes a few steps, then spins back to face him, overcalculating the spin and talking to the wall of a building for a second before correcting himself.

 

“Hey, you too. You gonna be okay? Got a ride home? Maybe in onea those fancy cars?”

 

“Yeah, don’t worry, I got it covered,” says Aki, grinning and waving, then laughing as Kou careens down the sidewalk towards his apartment. It’s only about 3 blocks, and most of the people in the area know him, so if he happens to take a wrong turn, someone is sure to set him right.

 

Aki thinks about home, and Asami. The warm feelings inside are still there. Man, he wants to be home  _ right now.  _ He wants to tell his lover how things had gone tonight, but mostly he just  _ wants _ . He wants to express his appreciation to Asami for all the little ways his lover has been looking out for him all this time, when Akihito had always just assumed the worst of him. He considers his scooter, parked around the side of the building. He  _ should _ probably call a cab or even Asami, who will obviously send a car or come himself. But he doesn’t want to wait that long! He wants Asami  _  now, _ and his lover’s warnings about dire consequences are the farthest thing from his mind. Home isn’t all that far, and it’s late enough at night that the traffic isn’t nearly as heavy as normal either.

 

Minutes later, he’s on his scooter and headed for home, slower than he likes, but the streets have taken on a disturbing tendency to tilt and wobble around him. He’s pretty sure they’re not supposed to do that. Maybe there’s a Tsunami coming like the one that had hit up North! Oh man, that would be bad. He shakes his head. Of course not, that’s just silly. There would have been warnings on TV, right? Of course, he’s not sure he remembers the last time he turned on a television. Whoo, were the lines on the road this wavy on his way out tonight? He can’t remember. Everything’s sort of blurry. Well, except for one thing. Asami. He  _ needs _ to get home to Asami. Needs  _ him _ . He very nearly overbalances on the next turn, scooter wobbling wildly for a few seconds before he manages to wrench it back straight. 

 

Much of the rest of his ride home is a blur. He finds himself suddenly blinking under the lights of the parking garage, sitting on his cooling Vespa, still wearing his helmet. It sort of feels like he’d fallen asleep for a few minutes. Maybe more. He shakes his head to clear it and drags his helmet off. His fingers don’t seem to want to make the key work in the lock that opens the compartment where he stores it, so he tucks it under his arm and staggers a little on the way to the elevator. He has to squint a little at the keypad that will allow him access to the top floor, but at least he remembers the passcode. He feels himself start to get hard in his pants as the elevator rises smoothly. Man, all that talking with his friends, coming out and stuff, talking about his lover….it had been so  _ cool _ . A huge weight is lifted off his shoulders; the one he’d placed there himself by being too afraid to tell them the truth. He’d sure celebrated the freedom with them in one way, but now he wants to celebrate it in another.

 

The penthouse is dark when he opens the door and drops his keys into the wide, shallow onyx bowl atop the small cabinet by the door that’s meant for such things, grinning when he sees Asami’s wallet and keys there too, oh, and his shoes by the door as Aki struggles a little to toe off his trainers. Asami’s not working late tonight! Or….he squints at the kitchen clock as he pads down the hallway towards the bedroom (it’s kinda blurry too)....maybe he did work late. Wow. It seems like it’s past 3 A.M. Phew. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. 

 

He eases open the door to the bedroom, yanking his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor. He tries unsuccessfully to shimmy his jeans and underwear down for a few seconds before he remembers that he’s gotta unfasten the damn things first. Oh yeah. He snickers softly to himself, nearly toppling over sideways before at last managing to strip completely. Then he tiptoes to the bed and slides under the covers, reaching out or the warm body he knows will be there. Asami won’t mind being woken up for this. He’s certainly never objected bef….

 

“I take it it went well?” The low voice filled with amusement as Akihito fumbles around under the covers reaching for one of his very favorite parts of his lover almost startles a shriek out of him, but he manages to to stifle it. Asami grips his reaching wrist in a strong grip, tugging him closer and nibbling on his fingers at the same time.

 

“It was great,” sighs Aki, giddy with happiness and pleasure at the warm, wet glide of Asami’s tongue along his fingertips. “They didn’t freak out at all. Takato said he already knew. It didn’t change noth...anything. They weren’t even mad cuz I dint tell ‘em til now. I think I want you to meet ‘em. I think I wanna invite them over to hang out here sometimes. I think we might start havin’ game night again. Oh man, they’re gonna freak when they see this place. I think…”

 

“I think  _ you _ are more than a little drunk,” muses Asami, nibbling at Akihito’s wrist where the skin is thin and sensitive.

 

“Hnn. I think I want you to fuck me.”

 

“Are you sure you’re not going to pass out on me halfway though?” Asami chuckles, but doesn’t seem adverse to the suggestion.

 

“Mmhmm…”

 

“Then I think that can be arranged. Oh. Speaking of arrangements,” Asami pauses in the middle of reaching over to the bedside table for the jar of lubricant, “do I need to leave a message for someone to make arrangements to pick up your scooter?”

 

“Huh?” Aki frowns at him in confusion. 

 

“You scooter,” Asami reminds him patiently. “From the bar? Did you even remember to tell someone at that horrible dive that you weren’t abandoning it before you got in the cab?”

 

Something funny coils up in Akihito’s stomach for a second.

 

“N-noo,” he says cautiously.

 

There’s a longish pause before Asami speaks again. He sounds a little less amused.

 

“Akihito. How did you get home tonight?”

 

Akihito’s drunken haze clears quite a bit at the tone in Asami’s voice, and flashes for just a moment on a memory from much earlier on in their relationship, when he’d ridden home after a night out with his friends, having had a bit too much to drink. At the time, he’d still been kicking pretty hard at the hold he felt Asami had on his life, and had refused to consider calling the man to send his stupid fucking ostentatious limo to pick him up. He’d been short on cab fare, having spent his money on beer and appetizers, so he’d defiantly ridden home. Asami had been furious. Akihito had tried to blow it off as no big deal, since he had, obviously, made it home just fine. He recalls that it had been one of the very earliest times Asami had shown him the man behind the mask of slick, sophisticated veneer he wears every day (aside from the night he’d rescued Aki from Feilong’s casino ship, at least). He’d told Aki the story of one of his best friends in secondary school, the night they graduated, and how he’d insisted on driving home after their celebratory party, and wrapped his car around a light post, then been in a coma for two months after being declared brain dead before his family had finally agreed to pull the plug and let him go. Akihito pushes aside the memory of how Asami’s face had looked while telling that story. And what he’d promised to do if Aki ever rode drunk again. Instead, he tries to distract Asami, reaching further down the other man’s body and rubbing up against him.

 

“Asami,” he wheedles, “I’m not worried about my scooter right now. Just want  _ you _ .”

 

The light clicks on, and Akihito has to throw up a hand to shield his eyes.

 

“How. Did you. Get. Home.”

 

Aki swallows hard. It’s Asami’s “Don’t fuck with me” voice, and he knows he’s stuck. There’s no distracting the man now. Aki groans and pulls away from Asami, burying his face in his pillow. The lack of bright light is a balm for his now-pounding head.

 

“I  _ rode _ , okay? An’ I’m really sorry, Asami, I just...everything went so good an’ I wanted to...no, I  _ hadda _ see you. Kou an’ Takato, they as….asked me so many questions about you, about us, and it was just….bein’ able to  _ talk  _ about it, it was all I could think about. I hadda get home to you. I needed you so bad. I wasn’t thinking, an’ I’m really sorry. But I made it home safe, an’ I won’t do it again, I promise, so can we….can we just forget about it?” He babbles, and he knows it, but somewhere in his still mostly fuddled mind he thinks maybe if he just keeps talking, Asami will sort of just….forget to be upset.

 

The bed shifts, and Akihito becomes abruptly aware of the lack of body heat next to him. He raises his head and looks around in confusion. Asami has gotten up and put on his robe. Then he leaves the room, all without saying a word. Aki feels his stomach roil uncomfortably, nausea rising in his throat. Somehow his urgency to get home is starting to feel like it had been a really dumb idea. As is all the beer he’d had to drink. Now Asami is so angry at him that he’s just...left. The bed feels cold. The room seems to tilt alarmingly. Suddenly, he’s scrambling to untangle himself from the sheets. They’re still wrapped around his ankles when he fumbles his way out of the bed and he falls on the floor. Using the bedside table, he drags himself to his feet and staggers for the bathroom. Barely making it in time, he hurls himself to his knees in front of the toilet and loses the contents of his stomach. It sobers him up a little more, but not enough. His imagination supplies him images of Asami listening impassively to him being sick, then turning and walking out of the condo, leaving Akihito alone. Tears well up in his eyes and he starts to cry, hugging the sparkling white porcelain of the toilet bowl, his nose clogged with snot from throwing up, throat raw and burning. 

 

A hand reaches past his watery peripheral vision and flushes the toilet. He’s pulled back gently and leaned against the side of the tub. A blessedly cool washcloth wipes his face clean.

 

“Here. Drink this. Small sips.” Asami crouches in front of him, a glass of water in his hand and a plastic bottle of something set on the floor beside them. Akihito’s hands are shaking too hard to hold the glass steady so Asami holds it for him, tipping it up a little at a time until Akihito has drunk about half the glass. Then he gets a washcloth and cleans the boy’s face, his own expression inscrutable. Without saying a word, Asami picks him up and carries him back to bed, handing him two white pills and the glass of water, which Aki’s hands are now steady enough to hold.

 

“Wh...what are these?”

 

“Just painkillers. You’ll feel better tomorrow if you take them now. Finish all of the water too.”

 

“Whuh-why are you being nice to me?” asks Akihito in a small voice. “I thought you were mad at me.”

 

“I am,” says Asami quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about your health. Nothing good can come from trying to discuss this right now. You’re still drunk, and you need to get some rest. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re sober and I’m not angry anymore. Go to sleep, Akihito.”

 

Aki doesn’t think there’s any way he’s going to sleep, not with Asami lying stiffly beside him with his back turned, but the long night and the alcohol still swimming in his bloodstream soon pull him down into oblivion.

 

******

 

It’s thirst that finally wakes him. His mouth is dry as a desert. This awareness is followed very closely by realization that he urgently needs to pee. Groaning, he forces himself out of bed and staggers to the bathroom, where he takes care of both needs. Then he takes a look at himself in the mirror. All in all, not as bad as it could be. His head hurts a little, and he can tell he’s a bit dehydrated, but apparently emptying his stomach combined with Asami’s care had gone a long way towards preventing what probably  _ should  _ be a spectacular hangover. He’s pretty sure the sick, twisted feeling in his stomach doesn’t have all that much to do with all the beer he’d drunk last night. Not feeling anywhere close to ready to face Asami yet, he decides to take a shower. He needs one anyway. The hot water washes away the aches and pains, and relaxes a little of his tension. Asami has unlimited hot water, so he spends a lot longer in the shower than he probably ever has in his entire life.

 

He wonders how mad Asami still is. He remembers the last time Asami had been angry at him for doing something stupid. His ass clenches in fear at the memory of that encounter. But he wrestles his brain out of the loop of terror and revolt it wants to get caught in and forces himself to think. It’s been a pretty long time since the night he’d gotten himself kidnapped on purpose and stuck Asami and Feilong with figuring a way out of it, and the blood that had been spilled that night. He’s never seen Asami as upset as he’d been that night. In the beginning, he’d wanted to be angry right back at his lover for the ultimatum he’d issued that night, but they’ve talked about it a few times since then, and he understands better. They don’t throw around the “L” word. It makes Akihito feel a little twitchy still, and it’s not really Asami’s style. But he knows how he feels, and now he also knows he’s not alone in feeling that way. Knows he’s not some toy Asami’s entertaining himself with until he gets bored. He understands how that Asami had been  _ scared _ that night, and he’s not a man who’s used to fear. Not only had he been afraid of losing Aki to the awful men who’d captured him, he’d been afraid that Akihito wouldn’t be able to deal with seeing up close and personal the lengths Asami had gone to in order to keep him and Feilong safe from those drug dealers. He’d been afraid Akihito would walk away. Being put in a position where he’d had no choice but to do what he’d done that night, yeah, it had made him mad. And he’d known himself well enough to know that without some way to balance the scales, he’d probably have stayed mad for a long time. And he’d have had trouble trusting Akihito again. What Asami had done to him, even though it had been pretty awful….it had balanced the scales. Asami has never brought it up again. Never thrown it in his face. Never tried to stop him from going on potentially dangerous assignments. It’s as though everything that had happened that night that might have damaged their relationship had been washed away. Thinking back on it, even though Aki can’t remember anything that has ever hurt that bad, he knows he’d still say yes if he had to do it all over again. 

 

He sighs and turns off the water. His stomach is still tied in knots, but he’s not quite as scared anymore. He dries himself off and pulls on some clothes, then goes in search of his lover. Asami is sitting in the living room, smoking and drinking a cup of his typical black gunpowder tea while he reads the paper. Akihito hesitates in the doorway for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath and walks over to the couch. Asami glances up at him over the edge of the paper. His face is still kind of expressionless, but Aki doesn’t think he sees the flash of anger behind those compelling amber eyes anymore.

 

“Is it okay….I mean can we….,” Akihito stammers, wishing for about the millionth time that he had even a fraction of Asami’s way with words. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I wish I didn’t suck at this.”

 

“Would you like to sit down?” says Asami politely, folding up his paper and setting it down on the coffee table. Aki sighs and sinks down onto the sofa beside his lover.

 

“Are...are you still too mad to talk?” asks Akihito anxiously, twisting his fingers together. Asami sighs.

 

“I wish you’d stop acting as though I’m going to shoot you where you sit,” says the older man. Aki glances at him out of the corners of his eyes and catches it when the corner of Asami’s mouth twitches upwards for just a second before settling back into a firm line. Some of the tension drains out of him. “To answer your question, no. I’m not happy, but I have no desire to throttle you, or to argue with you about this. We do need to talk though, don’t you think?”

 

“Yeah,” sighs Akihito. “Can...is it okay if I go first? I’ve been thinking a lot.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“First of all, I’m sorry. It was really stupid of me to ride home last night. I had way too much to drink, and I know I just got lucky. I was way drunker than the last time, and it was a dumb thing to do. I don’t know. Things went really good with Kou and Takato, and talking about you to them just got me thinking about you a lot, and cause I wasn’t thinking clearly, all I could think about was wanting to get home to you. Like, yesterday. I wanted to be with you so bad, and show you how happy I was about it. That’s no excuse,” he hastens to add. “I just...I wanted to tell you what my stupid drunk brain was thinking. And...and I know it’s not just that I did something that coulda gotten me hurt, or worse...or someone else. I promised you a long time ago that I’d never do that again, but then I did it anyway, so I’m sorry for that too.”

 

“I accept your apology,” says Asami softly. He reaches over and brushes the tips of Akihito’s damp hair with his fingers. Aki sighs and tilts his head into the brief caress. “But Akihito….”

 

“Please,” Aki interrupts him. “Please let me finish. I’m pretty sure I know what you’re gonna say. Forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting. I know that. And...and I want things to be okay with us. I haven’t forgotten what you said you’d do if I ever rode drunk again. I...I also remember what you said  _ after _ the...the time you. After what happened after you saved me from those guys I let capture me.”

 

“Which part of what I said?”

 

“That...that you said you’d never p-punish me against my will,” whispers Akihito, taking a shuddery breath.

 

“I did say that,” says Asami coolly. “You are a grown man. I am not your father or your Master. You have not given me the right to punish you just because I decide it’s warranted.”

 

“I guess it is,” says Akihito in an even smaller voice. Asami sits up straighter in his seat and looks at him with raised eyebrows. “What?” mutters the younger man, feeling his cheeks and ears turn hot with discomfort.

 

“You surprised me, that’s all,” replies Asami. “I suppose I’d been anticipating an argument.”

 

“Well it’s not like I’m excited about it or anything. Last time was awful, and I hated it. But I hated more how me doing something so dangerous upset you. And I don’t want things to be off between us. And I want you to trust me again. And...and I figure if. If you do it, I’m pretty fucking sure I’m not gonna forget my promise again. And I hate it when you’re mad at me. And I  _ really _ hated how it felt last night when you slept with your back to me like that...and...an...urk!”

 

Aki’s rambling is cut off abruptly when Asami yanks him into his lap and he finds his ability speak anymore suddenly impeded by warm lips covering his own. His breath hitches in his chest and he flings his arms tightly around Asami’s neck. They sit there like that for a long time, even after the kiss ends. 

 

“I didn’t handle things very well last time,” says Asami into Akihito’s tousled, sunny hair. “I should have waited, calmed down more. I frightened you more than I should have. I wasn’t in my right mind, and I didn’t explain myself, so I made you feel like I was going to force you to leave when that wasn’t what I was trying to say at all. Gods, Akihito, you are the only person I’ve ever met that robs me of all my logic.”

 

“I know. We already talked about it like four times. I get it, I do. I know it...goes against your nature not to like, post a dozen guys to guard me all the time, to lock me up somewhere in a padded room so I’ll never get hurt, to know and have a say about everything I do all the time. That’s okay though, cause I realized you’re just as bad at this relationship thing as I am. But we. We’ve been figuring it out. And you don’t do those things. I know I’m impulsive, and I don’t always think things through, and that drives you nuts sometimes because you’re not like that at all. And I get it, I do. Sometimes it’s too much for you, specially when me acting without thinking means something bad happens. I know it makes you wanna go out and blow up a small country or something, because you can’t  _ stand _ it. I know you’re not trying to be my boss or my….my Master. Just like I know you’ve gotta do  _ something _ or we’d probably eventually explode at each other. I decided after...after that night...because I saw that it  _ hurt _ you. Not just what I did, and what it meant you hadda do...it hurt you to hurt me. It’s different from when it’s stuff I like. You hated it. But it makes it so you can keep letting me be who I am, and we can still be okay. And I mostly try not to do stuff that makes you wanna blow people up now. I screwed up last night. You said you’d only ever do it again if I agree that it’s….it’s  _ just. _ I feel really shitty right now, and I don’t want to anymore. And I know I won’t anymore if you. If you….”

 

“If you agree to let me punish you,” supplied Asami, seeing that Akihito struggled with getting the words out. Even if he agreed with the principle, it’s still really fucking hard to volunteer to let Asami punish him. It’s not what their relationship is. But he thinks he’d agree to a lot more to be rid of the tension and stiffness and discomfort between them.

 

“Yeah,” sighs Aki. 

 

“Would you rather do this now, or get something to eat first?” asks Asami. He’s being a lot more solicitous than last time. Akihito suspects strongly that it’s because this is a lot different from Asami having to slaughter drug dealers to rescue him, but he’s grateful for it. 

 

“I think my stomach’s too twisted up to eat right now. Can you just….I want things to be okay again.” 

 

The smile Asami gives him is genuine, and Akihito is surprised to feel a warm rush of relief rather than the dread of what’s coming, even though it’s still there in the back of his mind. Asami helps him to his feet.

 

“Go to the bedroom and pull the chair in the corner out into the middle of the room. I’ll join you in a minute. Once you’ve done that, just sit on the bed and wait for me,” Asami says calmly. Aki looks up at him in confusion. He’d expected to be sent to the secret room, so Asami’s instructions are surprising. Asami, because he always does, understands Akihito’s confusion immediately. He reaches out and brushed his thumb over Aki’s cheek with a rueful smile.

 

“I’m going to do what I can to make sure this reminds you as little as possible of last time,” he says softly. “It’s still going to hurt, but...not in all the same ways. Do you want me to get the cuffs this time?”

 

Tears prick at the corners of Akihito’s eyes. It’s odd to feel such a rush of affection for this man considering what’s about to happen, but he does. The worst part of that night by far had been his fear that once Asami was finished, he would send Akihito away. Of course Asami had thoroughly assuaged that fear afterwards, but the fact that the man is making such efforts to  _ not _ remind him of that night makes him want to hug Asami.

 

“N-no,” he says, letting out another shaky breath. “I don’t need them.”

 

“Very well. Go on then. I won’t make you wait.”

 

Akihito’s legs are shaking as he goes to the bedroom. The comfortable armchair with the small side table and lamp next to it in the corner of the bedroom is heavy, so he has to struggle a little to pull it away from the wall and shove it out into the middle of the room. Handling the chair reminds him of the night Feilong had become a permanent part of their lives. It had been a weird night, almost surreal now in his memories, but the beginning of so many wonderful things. There’s no doubt in his mind that Asami is perfectly conscious that Aki will be thinking of it. It doesn’t take away all of Akihito’s nerves, or his fear of the cane, because nothing Asami as ever used on him hurts as much as the cane, and he has no illusions that the man will choose something else. The cane is only for punishment. He’s very, very conscious of his backside as he bends to push the chair into position. Once it’s in place, he goes and sits on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with a loose thread on his jeans where one of the knees is wearing thin and will likely become a hole soon. He wonders how long Asami will be. He’d said he wouldn’t make Aki wait, but Akihito’s not very good with patience.

 

As if his thoughts have conjured the man, Asami enters the bedroom. Akihito’s eyes are drawn instantly to the slender cane held tightly in Asami’s fist. The man’s knuckles are white around its leather-wrapped handle, as if he’s grasping it so hard it hurts his hand, and Aki realizes that Asami really doesn’t like this. As if he’s afraid his need to do this in order to allow himself to both forgive and forget so that his controlling nature doesn’t poison all the things that have become so good between them will yet drive Akihito away. A sharp pang in his chest draws a tiny gasp from Aki’s lips. Forgetting Asami’s instructions to sit on the bed, he jumps up and throws his arms around Asami, who jerks a little in surprise.

 

“It will be all right,” he whispers against the snowy white linen of Asami’s shirt. “I understand, Asami, I do. I wouldn’t agree to it if I wasn’t okay with it. With who you are, and why you...why  _ we _ need this sometimes.” He lets out a short, almost hysterical laugh. “I’m just glad it’s not very often.” Asami seems almost stiff for a few moments, then his arms come up to gather Aki closer. 

 

“I can live with your job, and its risks. I can live with your inexplicable penchant for leaping off of buildings. I can live with your desire to not be tied down,” mutters Asami into his hair. “But I can’t live with you acting without regard for your own life. I can’t live without….” He stops, and gently sets Akihito back, holding onto his upper arms so tightly it almost hurts a little. Aki has the oddest feeling that he knows how Asami had almost ended that last sentence.

 

“Yeah,” he says with a fleeting grin, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels. Asami throws his for a loop every time he says or does something that could even remotely be interpreted as sweet or romantic. He’s not sure why it makes him uncomfortable.  _ No, _ he thinks,  _ you just don’t want to have to admit out loud that you feel the same way, because then you’d have to admit to yourself that he’s it for you. That’s it’s forever for you. _ He sternly orders his inner voice to shut the hell up. “You just don’t wanna have to do without my cooking, now that you’ve got used to eating more than scotch and takeout.” Asami smirks.

 

“It would be difficult to find another personal chef that comes with such delicious fringe benefits, and can put up with me. Or who looks as cute in an apron,” he teases back. Aki rolls his eyes. “Very well then. Go to the back of the chair. Pull your pants down and bend over it. Hold on to the front edge, and don’t let go. This is a lighter cane than I used before. It’s still going to hurt, I won’t try to tell you otherwise. I’m going to give you ten strokes. You understand that you must be still?”

 

Akihito blinks. Last time it had been more, followed by the tawse. Last time Asami had made him take off all his clothes. Not doing this in the playroom, where Akihito will be reminded of last time….not stripping him completely so he’ll feel even more vulnerable, and….He glances at the cane in Asami’s hand and realizes that it’s smaller than the one he’d used last time. It’s a little weird to feel grateful to someone who’s about to hurt him, because oh boy, does he ever know it’s gonna hurt….but he does. 

 

“I know. I can do it,” he says, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels. His knees feel a little wobbly as he walks around to the back of the chair. His fingers are clumsy as he fumbles with the buttons on his jeans, but he manages to get the unfastened in the end by just yanking at the button fly until it pop pop pops open and he can shove his pants and underwear down to his knees. Gingerly, he bends over the back of the chair, settling himself carefully so he won’t (hopefully) grind any of his sensitive bits into the braided band of trim around the top edge. He has to reach forwards to wrap his fingers around the scrolled mahogany trimming the front edge of the seat. It stretches his body out and puts him almost on his toes, pulling his skin taut. He’s concentrating so hard on obeying Asami’s instructions and trying not to be terrified that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels Asami’s hand settle gently on his naked hip. He hadn’t even noticed the man move. Damn it, couldn’t he have gotten involved with men who move like normal people rather than a couple of fucking ninjas?     

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. And he is. Oh gods, he’s sorry. Partly because his tummy is tied up in knots of nerves and memories of how much the cane bites and hurts his tender ass, but mostly because he feels so  _ stupid _ now. Driving drunk, breaking his promise, all because he was  _ horny _ ? And partly because he’s scared. Asami had promised last time that after it was over, there was a clean slate. That he’d never bring it up again, never throw it in Akihito’s face, and that the trust between them would be unbroken. Asami had kept his word then, but what if he doesn’t this time? Because back then, when Akihito had let those drug dealers catch him, he’d never promised Asami that he wouldn’t. The thing is, this is the  _ second _ time Aki has done something so dumb, even after promising he wouldn’t. What if Asami can’t keep his own promise either? What if he starts to question Akihito every time he goes out. Or has him followed. Or makes him take the limo when he goes out with his friends, especially since they know about the relationship now anyway? What if Asami, even if he tries, can never really trust him again. 

 

There are already tears in his eyes when he feels the cool, smooth length of rattan glide over the rounded curve of his bared bottom. He flinches and a small whimper escapes between his firmly pressed lips. He doesn’t bother trying to tell himself he’ll bear it bravely and not cry. He’d learned that lesson pretty fucking quick last time. He knows he’s going to bawl like a baby. Hell, there are already tears in his eyes thinking about how badly he’s screwed up.

 

The touch of the cane vanishes, but Asami’s hand on his hip remains for a few more seconds before he steps back. Aki’s breath hitches in his chest. He bites into his bottom lip against the urge to just break down and beg Asami not to do it. He almost wishes the man was using something else, something new that he’s never felt before, just so he wouldn’t be laid out over this chair knowing exactly what’s coming. 

 

He feels the shaft of the cane tap gently across the upper curve of his ass, two gentle touches; Asami lining up his stroke….then it’s gone again. Hears the rustle of Asami’s clothes as he shifts, pulling his arm back from the elbow, waist twisting, stepping into the stroke. The cane makes a soft whistling sound as it cuts through the air, them impacts the young man’s naked backside in a straight, even line exactly where Asami had tapped, sinking into the soft flesh.

 

For a second or two, Aki doesn’t feel it. There’s not a lot of sound, just a quiet thwap like when he drops a damp dishcloth onto the kitchen countertop. Then sensation kicks in, a line of pure fire blooming and flaring in a fine line across his cheeks that gets hotter for a few seconds before it evens out into a pain that seems to sink below his skin. It feels like he’s been cut open so realistically that he expects to feel blood running down his ass, then his legs, even though he knows logically that it isn’t true. He doesn’t try to be brave. He yelps in pain and writhes against the chair. Asami waits patiently for him to be still, and he does, as fast as he can manage, his fingers digging into the wood so hard they ache. Gradually, the searing pain fades to a dull throb. The cane taps again, softly, just below the first stroke.  A tiny sob escapes his lips. He digs his toes into the carpet and straightens his legs.

 

The second stroke is just as accurate, perfectly even, and just as excruciating. This time he howls when the fire lights up, and the tears in his eyes overflow and slide down his cheeks. Again, Asami gives him time to compose himself and resume his position. By the third, Aki is already crying. Before Asami lines up the next, he gently rubs the middle of Akihito’s back where his t-shirt has rucked up with his desperate squirming. 

 

“You’re doing so well, Aki-kun. If you want the restraints there’s no shame in it.” Asami’s voice sounds strangely raw. Akihito shakes his head violently, pressing his lips together so tightly they feel bloodless.

 

“I wuh-wanna do it,” he gasps through his tears. “Tuh-to show you it’s uh-okay.”

 

“All right.”

 

Akihito loses count after the fourth stroke. He’s sobbing too hard. Asami is painstakingly careful not to overlap a single lash of the cane, creating a perfectly-spaced pattern of thin, tramline welts from the crest of his backside down to the crease where his cheeks meet his thighs, but he’s in no shape to appreciate the care. His ass feels like it’s been flayed. He tries, oh, he tries to hold back, but it just hurts so much.

 

“I’M SORRY,” he wails. “Puh-please, Asami! Hu-hurts, it hurts!”

 

“I know, sweet boy,” says Asami softly. “It’s meant to. I’m sorry for it. But it doesn’t hurt you nearly as much as it would hurt me to lose you. You belong to me, and I won’t lose you. If I’d burn the world to the ground to keep you safe from anyone who’d try to hurt you, then you can be damn sure I’ll burn your ass to keep you safe from hurting yourself. You’re being so brave, Aki. Only two more. You can bear it.”

 

“Ng’kay,” sobs Akihito.  _ I think I might die, _ he thinks, even though he knows he won’t really, and it’s not nearly as bad as last time, and there’s no terrible ache in his heart making it worse this time. It’s not as bad as that awful rubber flogger thing either, but oh, his ass is on fire. 

 

Despite the affection in his words and the tone of his voice, Asami doesn’t let up. The last two strokes of the cane are the hardest of all, and Aki shrieks after each one, sobbing uncontrollably in between. He’s only dimly aware of the soft thump of the cane being dropped on the floor, and his head spins dizzily when he’s suddenly scooped up into Asami’s arms. He wraps himself around the man’s body and holds on tight with arms and legs, locking his ankles around Asami’s waist, burying his face in the pristine white dress shirt and covering the collar and shoulder with tears and snot. Asami doesn’t seem to mind. Akihito can’t really parse what he’s saying, just that his lover is murmuring soft words of comfort into his ear as he carries him over to the bed. Asami lays down carefully with Aki on top of him, letting go with one arm to work the little photographer’s pants the rest of the way off. Although it’s a little bit embarrassing (even after all this time he’s a little self-conscious about being naked...well, mostly….in front of the man outside of sexual situations when Asami, or Feilong, or both of them, make sure he’s too busy drowning in pleasure to think about it), he’s grateful for it because right now he’s pretty sure he may never want to wear pants again. He can feel the throb of his heartbeat in every perfectly placed welt.

 

“Ah-am I bleeding?” he asks tremulously through his tears. Asami huffs out a short laugh.

 

“Of course not. You won’t even bruise too badly once I put the salve on the welts in a little bit. You’ll just have to let go first, but you can wait until you’re ready.”

 

“Nn,” says Akihito, shaking his head with his face still smooshed into Asami’s chest, which makes an even worse mess of his shirt. Asami pulls the covers over them when Aki shivers. The weight of the comforter makes him wince a little, but the warmth feels too good for protest. Slowly, he stops crying, but he doesn’t unclench his arms from around Asami’s neck, even if he’d had to let go with his legs to keep his ankles from being crushed by Asami’s weight. The older man’s strong hand strokes slowly up and down his back. 

 

  
“‘M sorry,” he whispers sleepily.

 

“Hush,” says Asami. “No more of that. It’s over, and that means forgotten. Aki,” his voice sharpens a little. “Don’t go to sleep. You need to stay awake. You’ve got to drink something, and you need to eat very soon.”

 

“‘Kay,” sighs Akihito, lifting his head to look at Asami through blurry eyes. “I am kinda thirsty.”

 

“You’ll have to let go of me for a minute. You know my kitchen skills are next to nonexistent, and I’m pretty sure they’d notch up to impossible with you stuck to me like this.”

 

“Will you hurry?”

 

“I promise. Just a couple of minutes,” says Asami solemnly. Reluctantly, Akihito loosens his arms and Asami manages to slide out from under him while still keeping him on his stomach. He feels colder without Asami’s warm body under him, and by the time the man returns with a bottle of apple juice (Aki’s favorite fruit juice), a plate of food and a blue glass jar, he’s shivering hard enough for his teeth to chatter a little.  

 

Asami slides back into the bed next to him, having left his shirt somewhere (which is a vast improvement in Akihito’s opinion) and he feels immediately better. The older man feeds him sips of the juice through a bendy straw so he won’t have to sit up, as well as bites of fruit and a few sticks of pocky. With his lover’s presence and his blood sugar restored, he starts to feel a lot better within a few more minutes. Once he’s feeding himself, Asami picks up the jar. Aki reaches out and grabs Asami’s wrist.

 

“You said I’m not bleeding, right?”

 

“You’re not. But this will help prevent bruising, and make the ones you do get heal faster,” says Asami patiently. Aki shakes his head. 

 

“Does it look like any of them are gonna be really bad? I...well, I remember you told me that really deep bruising could be dangerous sometimes….”

 

“No,” Asami replies. “I used one of my lighter canes. You’ll have the marks, and feel it for a few days, but the bruises won’t be deep.”

 

“Then I don’t want it. I wanna feel it as long as it lasts,” Akihito says with a stubborn set to his chin.

 

“Akihito, there’s no reason for you to do that to yourself. I told you it’s forgotten, and I meant it.”

 

“You can forget it. I don’t wanna. I wanna remember it as long as I can, cause I never want to break my promise again. So I wanna be able to feel it as long as I can. Y’know, to make sure my body remembers how it felt even if I ever get drunk enough to forget to be smart enough to be patient enough to wait for a damn car or a cab.”

 

Asami tilts Aki’s chin up for a kiss, making a face at the taste of chocolate pocky on his tongue and sending the young man into a short fit of giggles.

 

“As long as you know you don’t have to do it for my sake,” says his lover firmly. Aki shakes his head. “All right then, as you wish.” 

 

Akihito isn’t sure whether Asami is remembering in that moment that they’ve all had to watch the Princess Bride about a zillion times because it’s one of Feilong and Yoh’s favorite movies or not, but he’ll take it, because Asami is  _ always _ aware of what he’s saying, and he hears affection and the righting of all wrongs and the sound of slates wiped clean in those three words. He pushes the plate of food away and buries his face against Asami’s chest again, tears welling back up in his eyes. Asami doesn’t ask if he’s okay, he just turns onto his back and takes Aki with him, arms warm and secure around the much smaller body he’s sworn to protect. As his blinks to keep the tears from spilling over morph slowly into longer and longer blinks and tiredness rises up to tug him gently under, there isn’t a single part of Akihito that hurts at all.

 

******

 

When Akihito wakes up from his nap a couple of hours later, the first thing that hits him is that he’s ravenously hungry. He’d skipped breakfast and, according to the clock on the bedside table, lunch too, and the few bites he’d managed earlier to restore his blood sugar had really done nothing at all to fill his stomach. The second thing, as he rolls over to get out of bed and go in search of food is that his ass. Is REALLY SORE. He yelps and turns back onto his side. 

 

Very carefully reaches back and tentatively brushes the tips of his fingers over his still-naked ass. He regrets it immediately as the welts flare with stinging pain. They’ve swollen considerably in the last two hours. As long as he doesn’t touch, it isn’t really that bad though. So of course he does it again. Prepared this time, he lightly traces the perfectly even, straight tramlines that feel nearly branded into his skin. To his great chagrin, he feels his cock stir and start to wake up along with the rest of him. Movement in the bedroom doorway makes him yank his hand away, his cheeks flushing under Asami’s all-too-knowing gaze. His lover’s mouth curls up on one side in amusement.

 

“Still in one piece?” he asks. Akihito sticks his tongue out at him. Asami’s smile widens into a wicked smirk.

 

“I’m fine,” says Aki, blushing even hotter. At least the comforter is thick, and he’s laying on his side so that his other predicament isn’t obvious. Then he becomes aware of white cardboard takeout cartons and boxes in Asami’s hands and very nearly sits up to reach for them. Asami chuckles and steps quickly to the bedside, sitting beside him. 

 

“If you can contain yourself for just a minute, I’ll be back and we can have a proper picnic in bed. I’d really prefer you not spill our meal all over the bed trying to manage that laying on your side.” He sets the offerings down and vanishes, returning a few minutes later with trays and plates and cutlery along with two bottles of Ramune and a bottle of water for himself. Akihito stares covetously at the takeout containers while Asami unpacks him, the scent of sizzling meat, stir-fried vegetables, dumplings, rice, noodles, and no less than three kinds of soup making his mouth water. There’s sushi too, along with a huge order of taiyaki. Asami sets one tray down alongside Akihito, loaded up with a little bit of everything, then lounges next to him with his own tray balanced on his lap. 

 

“You looked pretty tired, so I didn’t want to wake you to ask what you wanted,” he says as he picks up his chopsticks. He’s given Akihito regular cutlery, which Aki thinks is rather thoughtful because it’s next to impossible to wield chopsticks lying on your side. 

 

“So you ordered everything on the menu?” he asks incredulously, eyeing the repast laid before him in amazement. 

 

“No. Just everything I know you like.”

 

“I...thanks,” says Aki shyly. Asami reaches out and ruffles his hair.

 

“It’s nothing. I’m sure you’re hungry, and we can have the leftovers for dinner. Go on. Eat. You must be starving, and you need protein.”

 

Akihito doesn’t need to be told twice. He digs into the food as though he hasn’t eaten for days. Snatching one of the crispy, golden taiyaki, he takes a huge bite. Asami laughs and shakes his head.

 

“Really, Akihito? Dessert first?”

 

Aki lifts his chin and narrows his eyes at Asami, but his mouth is way too full to respond. Then his eyelashes flutter and he moans in pleasure as his brain registers his favorite flavor; custard filling. Asami’s pupils dilate just a little at the sound, but he turns and busies himself with his own food. That look, and the little twinges in his ass when he shifts position, make Akihito’s little problem between his legs worse. He sighs as he chews, knowing it won’t matter. Asami had explained to him that first time why there’d be no sex after an actual punishment, versus as much sex as Akihito can handle (and occasionally just a little more) after play punishments. He even understands and agrees with the man’s reasoning. That doesn’t mean his dick does. Being horny is what had gotten him into this predicament in the first place, so he’s not going to try to do anything about it, but it doesn’t stop him from wishing. 

 

At least he’s hungry enough that it actually distracts him sufficiently that by the time he’s not shoveling food into his mouth almost too fast to breathe between bites, his traitorous cock has calmed down. They enjoy their lunch in companionable silence, and Akihito’s relief is almost palpable. There’s no sign of stiffness in Asami’s body language, and he touches Aki easily, feeding him bites of his favorites with laughter in his eyes and wiping Aki’s face with his napkin when he gets a little messy (he’s still a little shaky and uncoordinated from the overload in his brain’s chemistry caused by the intensity of the cane) while Akihito slaps ineffectually at him and complains. 

 

Once he’s contentedly full, Aki lays on his side and munches slowly on the last taiyaki, a traditional red bean paste one this time, while Asami clears away their picnic. He fully expects Asami to head off to his home office to get some work done, or go to the living room to catch up on all the world business newspapers he likes to read, so he’s surprised when Asami returns, pushing the small wheeled entertainment center from Akihito’s mostly unused bedroom, which holds a flatscreen television and two gaming systems, birthday and holiday gifts from Asami, Feilong and Yoh, along with a stack of his favorite games. It surprises him even more when, after connecting everything, Asami doesn’t leave, but lays back down beside him with two controllers in his hands, giving one of them to Akihito. 

 

“Wha….what are you doing?” he asks in confusion.

 

“You’re not going to feel like doing much for the rest of the day, and I’d really prefer that you stay in bed and not try sitting on those bruises you insisted on not having treated either. So it’s bed rest for you until tomorrow. I thought we’d just….spend the rest of it together.” Then Asami frowns. “But if you’d prefer that I leave you alone, I’ll understand.” Aki goggles at him.

 

“Why would I want you to leave me alone?” Asami shrugs one shoulder and looks out the big picture window.

 

“I know how you feel about canes. If you need a little time to forgive me for using it on you, that’s understandable, and a normal reaction. You’re allowed to feel that way, and not want me around for a little while,” Asami replies. Akihito isn’t positive, because Asami is  _ very _ good at being inscrutable, but he’s almost positive the look in the older man’s eyes is something awfully close to sad. 

 

With less care than he should, Akihito flips over onto his other side so that he faces his lover, wincing in pain when he’s less than successful at avoiding brushing against the bed with his butt. He does his best to ignore it and reaches out to Asami, curling his fingers around Asami’s neck and pressing his forehead against the man’s broad, muscular chest (Asami has put on another shirt, but the top two buttons are undone so that he can nose past the open fabric to take in the scent of his skin; sandalwood and something spicy and warm as well as the undefinable scent that is the man himself, which Aki has always found intoxicating even back when he hadn’t wanted to). 

 

“Dummy,” mutters Aki. “You’re the one who said all that shit about clean slates and stuff. T-take responsibility, if you meant it, cause I believe you, and it’s the same thing for me. You’re the one with the damn x-ray vision, so don’t even try to tell me you haven’t noticed the way I’ve been wanting to...to be with you.”

 

“Akihito,” says Asami, sounding somewhat regretful, “you know I’m not going to….”

 

“Of course I know that. That’s not what I mean. I mean you always say I’m terrible at lying to you, or faking anything. If I was...was….I don’t know,  _ upset _ about what you did, do you think I’d have been lying here all day with my ass hurting and  _ still _ wanting to jump your bones so bad it makes me a little crazy? Stay. Of  _ course _ I want you to stay.”

 

And so Asami stays, and they play video games, and watch movies and Asami shows him more of the old anime shows he used to watch when he was younger and they both laugh at how bad the animation style is, and Akihito makes him watch Touken Ranbu which is one of his current favorites and to his surprise, Asami really likes it too and talks about the history of all the swords and how accurately it’s portrayed in the show and before Akihito realizes it, the sun has gone down. Asami re-heats the rather considerable leftovers from their late lunch.

 

Aki complains when he starts to feel sleepy around nine o’clock. Asami chuckles and brushes the messy blond hair back from his forehead before he leans down to kiss him.

 

“It’s a natural reaction to intense physical sensation and emotional response. I half expected you to sleep a lot today, but I’m glad you didn’t. I...enjoyed this. Except fucking Pierce,” he adds darkly, making Akihito giggle. He always cons Asami into playing Saint's Row with him when he has a chance, because Asami’s running tirade about the character’s frequent interference with their missions due to its programming is one of the funniest things he’s ever heard. “But before you go to sleep, I want to check you out and make sure I wasn’t wrong about the bruising.”

 

Aki blushes and groans and protests about it, but he turns over onto his stomach and lets Asami pull the covers down to inspect his backside. The touch of cool, blunt fingers on the welts makes him whine softly in his throat, but after most of a day of just resting, it already doesn’t hurt as much, and the feather-light touches are more arousing than painful. And Asami can tell, too, the bastard.

 

“It doesn’t look too bad,” says Asami, and Akihito is pretty sure he sounds relieved. “Since you seem determined to have the bruises, and the salve wouldn’t do very much good after this many hours anyway, I do have some medicine I can put on you that won’t have any effect on the marks, but it’ll numb them for a little while so you’ll be able to sleep more comfortably, if you want it/ You need the sleep. With a good night’s rest, you should feel mostly like yourself tomorrow, even if you’ll feel it when you sit down for a few more days.”

 

“Okay,” Akihito agrees, so Asami goes into the bathroom and returns with a tube of something that proves to be a clear, cool gel that feels blissful when Asami carefully smooths it over the marks left by the cane. It also has the unfortunate side effect of turning him on again, but he does his best not to rut against the sheets, which would only make it worse. When he’s finished, Asami leans down and places a warm kiss between his shoulder blades.

 

“Tomorrow,” Asami says softly in a low, dark voice.

 

“Hhm?” asks Akihito sleepily.

 

“Tomorrow I’ll take care of that little problem you’ve been having on and off today. You’re not the only one. I may have to get a little creative, because what I’d really like to do is fuck you into this mattress until you scream my name.”

 

“Ugh,” moans Ak helplessly. “Not helping!”

 

“Not trying to,” smirks Asami unrepentantly. “Now,” he adds, sitting up, “I have a couple of phone calls to make to overseas associates, and I should take care of a few emails, but I won’t be too long. Get some sleep. Do you want me to turn on Netflix in case you have trouble staying comfortable after that medicine wears off?”

 

“Mhmm,” sighs Akihito, snuggling down into the blankets on his side. “Voltron.” Asami laughs, because he’s perfectly aware that Akihito has already seen all the seasons multiple times, even season 4 that has only been out for a couple of days, but he sets up the app and hits play before kissing Aki good night and slipping quietly from the room. Akihito makes it through half of the first episode before he’s fast asleep.

 

******

 

Akihito is having the most erotic dream. Shiro, who is somehow himself but also wearing Asami’s face (Shiro is his very favorite character, and even though he’s never said so, reminds him of Asami more than a little, with the way he so effortlessly leads the team and commands so much respect and loyalty from others without even seeming to try, and held up against torture without letting his enemies break him, and who has that sexy dark side filled with animalistic violence), holds him firmly by his hips so that he can’t move them  _ at all _ and is casually licking and teasing at his very hard, aching cock. He feels the hard, hot coil of need in his belly that means he’s about to lose it and wakes up with a loud gasp, trembling all over with how real it had felt. 

 

He moans helplessly when the warm, wet sensation of a hot mouth sucking gently at the head of his cock doesn’t dissipate with the dream. Heart hammering in his chest, he looks down and his eyes widen in shock when he sees Asami curled up on his side halfway down the mattress, his hands wrapped around Akihito’s hips while he licks a slow stripe up Aki’s very real erection.

 

“Ah-Asami,” he moans, “wha...what are you doing?” He’s just as confused as he is aroused, because despite the fact that the man’s mouth is as amazing as always, he knows Asami always means what he says, and it’s clearly still dark outside.

 

“It’s tomorrow,” says Asami, pulling back and licking his lips with a self-satisfied look like a big, lazy cat that has its prey exactly where it wants it. Aki glances over at the clock and sees that it reads 1:25 A.M. Akihito starts to wonder if this is maybe cheating of some sort, except Asami does a thing with the tip of his tongue that shorts out all his higher brain function and all that comes out of his mouth is a loud, needy whimper. How the fucking man can manage to smirk with his mouth full of dick is a mystery, and not at all fair, but he can.

 

Asami has mercy on him a few minutes later when Akihito’s sounds grow increasingly desperate. Which is to say he stops, letting go of the younger man’s cock with a filthy wet pop that Aki doesn’t think is particularly merciful  _ at all _ since he’d been about ten seconds from what would have surely been a spectacular orgasm. He groans in frustration and very nearly flops over onto his back in a huff. Asami’s hands on his hips stop him.

 

“Ah, ah, don’t be hasty,” he chides gently. “I think you might still find that a bit uncomfortable.”

 

“Damn it, I was about to come,” complains Akihito, even though he does appreciate the gesture.

 

“I know,” Asami replies with an evil grin. “And you will. But not until you’re so mindless with pleasure that you’re begging for it. And not until my cock is buried in your cute little sore ass.” Chuckling softly at Aki’s helpless whimper, Asami helps him over onto his stomach. A single fingertip traces the marks on his bottom, making him squirm. “How badly do they hurt?”

 

“A….a little,” says Akihito breathlessly. “Not too bad,”

 

“What about when I do this?” Fingers delve between his cheeks and spread him open wide. Aki gasps and shakes his head, hiding his face in his pillow at being so exposed. For a second, he wonders if that’s not going to make Asami’s hands cramp if he does it for very long, using just the tips of his fingers to avoid where he’s still sore. Usually the man just grabs handfuls of his ass to hold him open like that. Then he squeaks when he feels something cold and very hard wedged between his buttocks. Asami moves it around a little, then makes a satisfied noise in his chest. Straps of some kind are attached to the cold thing, running from it up and down the center of his crevice. Asami pulls them snug and holds them down, pressing one end against the small of his back where Aki can feel a buckle of some kind and holding the other end so that his knuckles brush against the photographer’s balls.

 

“Wha….ngh….what  _ is _ that?” he pants. He feels Asami’s warm breath ghosting over his hole when he gets the answer.

 

“Ring gag,” says Asami smugly.  _ Oh _ , thinks Akihito,  _ that’s pretty smart. _ Then he can’t think at all. 

 

Asami has eaten him out before. In fact, it seems to be one of the man’s favorite hobbies. This….this is more like being devoured. Asami’s tongue is merciless. He starts out tickling and teasing at the rim of Aki’s hole for what feels like hours, long enough that the boy is just about ready to beg him for more even though he knows he’d be mortified, but he doesn’t get the chance. Sensing, as he always, always can that Akihito is just about at his limit, Asami stops teasing and shoves his tongue up his lover’s dripping, softened asshole as far as it will go. Aki squeals and writhes. Asami Ryuichi’s mouth should be classified a deadly weapon. He eats Akihito’s ass like he’s starving for it. He licks and fucks into his hole with it until Aki is nearly sobbing with need. Oh gods, he wants more. Wants to be stuffed full. He never wants Asami to stop. 

 

Asami doesn’t stop. Instead, he presses a finger inside along with his tongue, slick and scenting the air with vanilla and spices that Aki’s body responds to on a visceral, Pavlovian level, and keeps going. Keeps torturing the sensitive nerve endings of Aki’s entrance and inside his hole while he fucks him with a single slick finger, curling it down towards his little lover’s stomach with a sniper’s accuracy, stroking and pressing against that one perfect spot inside him until tears of pleasure and frustration prick at the corners of his eyes. Then he adds a second finger. Aki howls when he scissors them open and licks all around his stretched little hole, licks his way inside, plows his fingers so hard up Akihito’s ass it makes him scream the bastard’s name and shove his hips back into his smug face. Aki’s absolutely certain he could come just from this, but every time he gets close, Asami backs off so that he’s just lightly teasing with the tip of his tongue and gently twisting his fingers inside his body while carefully avoiding his prostate. And he doesn’t stop. He’s relentless, bringing Akihito to the brink of coming over and over. 

 

  
“Asami, please,” he cries. 

 

“What is it, my cute Takaba,” purrs Asami, his deep voice vibrating oversensitive nerves so that even  _ that _ drives Aki insane.

 

“Fuck me. Oh gods, please fuck me. I can’t stand it anymore.”

 

“Oh, I bet I could make you.”

 

“Noo, please! Want you inside me. So bad. Please, Asami, please, please! I...I can’t. Feels so good, but I want  _ you _ . Please. Oh, fuck. Fill me up. Asami,  _ please _ !” He’s nearly sobbing, and Asami can hear it in his voice.

 

“I haven’t stretched you enough yet,” says Asami sternly, “and I don’t wish for it to hurt you this time. Only pleasure.”

 

“Well I do,” cries Akihito, his voice cracking. “Wanna feel you on the inside for days too. Please, it’s enough. Fuck me. Now, oh please now!”

 

Asami growls, pulling away and yanking Aki up on his knees. He slicks his cock and lines up, rubbing the fat head of his cock over the frantic boy’s slick hole, slapping it with his length with a filthy, wet sound. Akihito sobs and begs some more. 

 

“It’s a good thing you’re not a selfish, greedy little thing,” mutters Asami, his deep voice dark and graveled with his own need. “Because I can refuse you nothing.”

 

And he sinks his thick, heavy cock into Aki’s body with one long roll of his hips. Akihito howls and claws at the sheets, panting at the stretch. He’s soft and opened up enough that it only aches and burns a little bit. Just the right amount, the way he loves, so that he feels every inch, that his body quivers at the stretch, but it isn’t more than he can take. 

 

Asami fucks him with long, careful strokes. Oh, it’s bliss after the lengthy torment, but it’s still not enough, Aki realizes that Asami’s being careful with him, avoiding fucking  _ all _ the way into him, so that his hips won’t rub against his bottom. He keens in frustration and shoves his hips back to meet Asami’s next thrust. Tiny sparks of stinging pain meet the pleasure of Asami’s cock rolling sweetly over his prostate as his punished Ass collides with Asami’s pelvis.

 

“Akihito,” snarls Asami in warning.

 

“I don’t care, I don’t care,” pants Aki, struggling to push back against him again while Asami’s powerful hands hold him firmly in place. “Stop holding back, you bastard, I’m not gonna break!”

 

“Ohh, Akihito,” purrs Asami, taking a moment to adjust Aki’s hips to his liking, “you asked for it. And I think you’re going to  _ shatter. _ ” He slams his cock in to the hilt, his hips colliding with Akihito’s welted bottom with a loud, meaty smack. Aki screams, fingers clutching the sheets so hard he thinks he hears something rip. Pain and pleasure spark through his blood. He sobs helplessly as Asami reams him open with ruthless, brutal thrusts. He’s wound so tight and it’s so perfect that he shrieks within minutes, clamping down on Asami’s driving cock and coming so hard his vision goes grey around the edges. Asami slows his thrusts just long enough for Akihito to ride out his orgasm, then he goes still, buried deep within his boy’s body. Aki pants harshly, trying to catch his breath.

 

“Nn,” he sighs. “‘Sami...so good.”

 

“If you think I’m done with you yet,” snarls Asami in a low, sinister voice, “then I’m afraid you’re  _ sorely _ mistaken.”

 

Akihito whimpers.

  
  


By the time Asami wrings another orgasm out of him and finally finishes, filling his aching hole with his own pleasure, Aki’s voice is hoarse with screaming and he doesn’t so much fall asleep while Asami is gently cleaning him up and tucking him back into bed as passes the fuck out. The distance between them isn’t even so much as a whisper of a memory.

 

******

 

Two weeks later, after they’ve eaten dinner and Asami has settled himself on the sofa for his after dinner scotch and smoke and newspaper, Akihito follows him into the living room after he’s finished cleaning the kitchen. He stands on the other side of the coffee table, fidgeting nervously until Asami finally looks up at him curiously.

 

“What is it, Aki-kun?”

 

“W-well, it’s just that Takato and Kou called, and they want me to come meet them for drinks,” stammers Akihito, holding his breath. He can’t help but wonder if his fears from before will prove true. He steels himself for Asami’s response. Will he say no? Will he make Aki take the stupid limo, or remind him to make sure he takes a cab, warn him not to drive drunk? 

 

Asami returns to reading his paper instead.

 

“Have fun,” he says offhandedly. “Invite them over whenever you’re ready.”

 

Akihito manages to wait until he reaches the parking garage before he whoops, punching a fist into the air in his happiness. 

 

He also remembers to check the extra pocket on his jeans to make sure the extra yen he’s tucked away for cab fare is still there, then hops on his scooter and rides off, a wide grin splitting his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Real punishment in a BDSM relationship can be an extremely delicate matter. No one should ever just assume that it's okay. It's a thing that can lead to a lot of resentment and eventually poison a relationship if everyone involved doesn't agree to it.
> 
> But if it IS something that's agreed upon, and as long as the Dominant handles it correctly...which means that they never bring it up later in a disagreement, or throw it in their sub's face to continue to make them feel bad about it...it can really work. Many people will carry around distrust, anger and resentment when someone screws up in a big way, and if real discipline is a WORKING part of the dynamic, it's a way to clear the air so that those things don't happen.
> 
> But if it's handled badly, it's also a really great way to ruin an otherwise healthy kink relationship. So always handle it with great care. Fictional characters only have imaginary feelings. Real people are different.


End file.
